


Our Names are Written in the Streets

by dreaminginside



Series: Fill All Thy Bones With Aches [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Just Some Domestic Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginside/pseuds/dreaminginside
Summary: When Baekhyun finally pulls Jongdae to bed, he’ll kiss every bit of skin he can reach, let Jongdae rebuild him from the ground up with soft words and softer touches until he can’t remember a single role to play but himself.





	Our Names are Written in the Streets

**Author's Note:**

> Cracks knuckles, I'm back in business after two years with a gang!au.

Baekhyun counts street lamps as Sehun drives, eyes squinting until they’re a line of pure light as they speed across the bridge.

He likes the duality of it all, of little lights in the darkness where the pollution is too thick to really see the stars, places where light should be hard to find but is still abundant through the grace of technology. He bobs his head to the song playing as they approach their destination, fingers tapping on the seat leather and reading over Minseok’s message once more to make sure he has his and Sehun’s part down.

It’s all really a big play, anyway.

“Don’t make _too_ big a mess,” Sehun cuts a glance to him over the bubblegum pop that Baekhyun has blasting in the camaro, eyeing the way Baekhyun knocks his bat in between his toes. “I know Minseok said to send a message, but like, I don’t want to have to suck up to the clean up crew again.”

Sehun groans when Baekhyun grins with all his teeth back, and Baekhyun can’t resist reaching over the seat to poke Sehun in the center of the intricate design on his chest that peeks out under his shirt.

“If we were going for clean then I wouldn’t have brought this along,” Baekhyun says, wiggling the handle of the bat between his knees. “You know what Minseok wants Sehun, so just be my backup and have clean up on speed dial for when I’m done. Play clash of clans or something, I have a date to get to so this will be over in an hour, thank you very much.”

“Right, no one wants to get in the way of you being disgusting,” Sehun snorts as he throws the car into park at the edge of their territory, nose wrinkling at the scattered bodies in hoodies attempting to tag some of the walls with symbols that he can’t make out in the darkness. “Just don’t get too carried away.”

“I would never,” Baekhyun says and places his hand over his heart in mock offence, but Sehun just rolls his eyes and gives Baekhyun a shove to his shoulder to move him towards the door. Baekhyun lets him and hefts up his bat, making sure Sehun exits first before popping the lock on his door.

“Hello boys,” Baekhyun announces loudly as he exits the car, adjusting his grip on the bat and keeping his smile deceptively easy as five pairs of eyes swing up to meet his. “Get on up now, I think it’s about time for you to meet your maker.”

There’s a collective pause, and Baekhyun sighs heavily before motioning to Sehun over his shoulder and grinning as five men become four, a crack shot fired from over Baekhyun’s shoulder quickly snapping the traitors out of their stupor.

The night erupts.

If Baekhyun is being honest, messy jobs where he is outnumbered aren’t his favorite, holding back a wince at the knife that tears through his jean jacket and lodges itself in his forearm briefly, but there is some enjoyment to be had from them.

For example, the sound of bone cracking under steel never quite feels any less novel.

Baekhyun’s arm aches bit more with each swing of his bat though, and he thinks that he has gotten too comfortable with simply working negotiations if this much is making him a bit winded.

He supposes that this is probably why Minseok sent him out tonight, something about _not forgetting your roots_ , or something as equally cryptic and well thought out and fully Minseok. And the fact that no one else can really send an artful message to ants like Baekhyun can.

He waits until one remains, hand quick to reach in the back of his jeans for his gun as he pops off two bullets in the man’s kneecaps to bring him to the ground, sauntering over and affecting a thoughtful look.

“Now, are we going to find any of you upstarts scurrying around our territory anymore?” Baekhyun quirks an eyebrow and grins with what he knows is a bloody smile, pretending he isn’t winded. A lucky hit from brass knuckles in his blind spot earlier that cut the inside of his cheek has him tasting blood on his tongue, but it serves a purpose of stronger intimidation now. “What are you going to go back and tell your buddies?”

The man spits on Baekhyun’s shoes in answer, and Baekhyun tuts gently, tipping the end of his bat under the man’s chin.

“Wrong answer!” Baekhyun says cheerfully, and brings the bat down hard on the man’s temple.

The man falls with a dull thump, and Baekhyun sighs, grimacing a bit as the adrenaline wears off and his arm begins to ache with the telltale signs of _you got stabbed_.

“So much for leaving a messenger.”

Sehun’s monotone breaks Baekhyun out of his mourning for his jacket, and he accepts the cigarette that Sehun offers him with a shrug, spitting out the blood pooling around his gums in the middle of his carnage, and he thinks it’s a pity most of it will be gone by the time the sun rises.

“The messenger was just a suggestion, the message itself will get across either way,” Baekhyun says with casual practice, swiping Sehun’s phone from his pocket and ignoring the whine he gets so he can punch in Yixing’s number, saved helpfully in Sehun’s phone as _cleaning xing_. “Now take me home, chauffeur, I need to properly mourn this jacket and get a goddamn bandaid or something.”

“Too bad they couldn’t have cut off your mullet instead.”

Yixing picks up Baekhyun’s call to Baekhyun’s laughter, Sehun’s yelp, and responds in cheerful broken Korean that the mess will be cleaned within the hour and put on Minseok’s tab.

Baekhyun shoves Sehun’s phone aside as he hangs up the call, and burns off the edges of his cigarette out the open window, watching the ashes fade into the moving pavement that the streetlights can’t touch. 

“Hey, don’t bleed on the interior!”

…

Baekhyun is dropped off rather unceremoniously in front of Jongdae’s apartment.

Sehun has the nerve to give him his middle finger as a parting farewell, and Baekhyun can only roll his eyes and think that their brat has really come a long way from having to white knuckle both Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s hands when he got his first tattoo.

It’s a thought he pushes to the back of his mind as he shakes off the night and punches in the first code to the security panel outside Jongdae’s door, then places his eye up to the scanner, one hand half heartedly holding his bangs back as he waits for the recognition.

The final lock is a hand print scanner hidden beneath a panel to the right of the door, and Baekhyun looks at all the blood that has run and dried around the lines of his palm before rolling his eyes and settling for leaning on the door heavily and giving it a good old fashioned pounding with his good arm.

His banging goes ignored for a few moments before the door finally opens, Baekhyun tripping slightly, but not before seeing the telltale quirk of Jongdae’s lips.

“I don’t know why you even bother with all this security when you always just open the door anyway,” Baekhyun’s smiles are all soft now, a teasing lilt to his words as he hides his bloodied arm behind his back and pats Jongdae’s cheek with his free hand, swiping a thumb at the circles under his eyes. “Were you sleeping?”

Jongdae certainly looks like he just woke up, Baekhyun taking in his torn up sweatpants and rumpled band shirt that definitely belonged to Baekhyun in highschool, paired with messy dark hair falling haphazardly over his forehead. His face says otherwise though, glasses still firmly in place and sparkle in his eyes speaking to energy given from Jongdae’s own special hell blend of red bull and espresso.

Baekhyun’s heart tugs painfully at the sight, and he thinks he would start a war if Jongdae asked it of him.

“I only open it for you, that’s why,” Jongdae rolls his eyes, but catches Baekhyun’s hand before it falls regardless, bumping a lightning quick kiss against Baekhyun’s palm before pulling him further into the apartment and over Jongdae’s precariously balanced piles of technology. “And I don’t know why you can’t just humor me and go through all of the security. I didn’t spend an afternoon burning your fingerprints for solely my own enjoyment, you know.”

Baekhyun hums as Jongdae continues rambling, bypassing his towers and monitors in favor of dragging Baekhyun into the fluorescent lighting in the bathroom, nudging Baekhyun’s hip with his own to get him to sit up on the counter.

“And no I wasn’t sleeping. I had a feeling you would be by soon so I was finishing up the stuff Kyungsoo sent over yesterday. Some light mainframe hacking, a few fund transfers here and there, you know, busy work.”

“Busy work,” Baekhyun echoes dryly, letting his eyes flutter shut as Jongdae’s hands carefully frame his jaw, soft fingers brushing over the growing bruise on Baekhyun’s cheek and frowning at the wince he receives. Jongdae’s touch is light as it continues down over the tattoo on Baekhyun’s neck, pulling his injured arm forward and tapping at the dried blood on the edges of Baekhyun’s sleeve as he rolls it up.

“Now how long were you going to try to hide this arm from me?” Jongdae’s smile is tinged with exasperation as he ducks down under the counter for the first aid kit, all business and batting Baekhyun’s hands away when they go to tug at his messy hair. 

“It just didn’t seem like a very nice way to start the evening,” Baekhyun shrugs as Jongdae sets about cleaning the wound, honestly not very deep despite the looks of the bloodied appearance of his torn skin. “ _Honey I’m home! And I got stabbed again!_ , felt like it would kill the mood a little.”

“You’re right, even the exclamation points can’t really save a sentence like that,” Jongdae agrees with a snort, fishing around somewhere behind Baekhyun for his stitches.

“And I was right! I haven’t even gotten a kiss for my trouble,” Baekhyun plows on, and pouts his lips in the way he knows Jongdae is weak to, but gets only a swab of antiseptic to his arm for his trouble, sucking in a hiss at the burn. 

Jongdae is silent save a roll of his eyes after that, setting about efficiently cleaning and stitching up Baekhyun’s arm. Baekhyun matches the silence, broken only by the buzzing of Jongdae’s bathroom lights, and takes a long moment to study Jongdae as he works.

His eyes are cast down to focus on cleaning up Baekhyun’s arm, and Baekhyun follows the long fan of Jongdae’s lashes over to the small moles on Jongdae’s temple, a line of constellations leading down Jongdae’s neck that Baekhyun has mapped out better than his own hand. His eyes trace over the small diamond studs in Jongdae’s ears that he got him for his birthday, over the sharp edges of his cheekbones and the ever present quirk to his lips, the dip in his cupid’s bow that Baekhyun aches to press at with his thumb. 

He would do it now if he didn’t know it would illicit a trademark whine and a smack, injured or not, and he takes some comfort in the fact that no matter how their lives have shifted, Jongdae has always remained the same to him.

It’s always been him and Jongdae, since before Baekhyun ever picked up a blade and Jongdae was the one simply patching up Baekhyun’s scrapes from playground fights. If Baekhyun were cliched enough to believe in destiny, and he just might be, then he would say that he and Jongdae were always meant to be together, from the moment Baekhyun fell down into the darkness and Jongdae jumped headlong after him without a second of hesitation.

The difference is now Jongdae’s fingers don’t shake when he patches Baekhyun up, hands steady on the needle as he finishes the final stitch, bottom lip caught between his teeth to show his concentration. Five years ago he may have been a mess, skin pale and knuckles white at the sight of Baekhyun’s blood, but now there’s only a sad kind of resignation behind Jongdae’s movements.

Baekhyun doesn’t like it.

He’s still mulling it over when Jongdae pulls the last stitch, wiping away the last of the blood and looking up at Baekhyun with a tired smile on his face. Baekhyun reaches for Jongdae’s glasses carefully as the silence stretches on, plucking the black frames off his face and brushing back his bangs with practiced ease, setting them to the side of the sink. He makes to swing his legs off of the counter before Jongdae stops him with a hand on his knee.

“Jongdae, —”

Baekhyun is cut off by Jongdae’s mouth on his.

Jongdae kisses with the same amount of care and precision that he does everything else, curling his fingers into the hair at Baekhyun’s nape to tilt his head back farther, licking at the blood on his gums. Baekhyun lets out a hiss and nips at Jongdae’s lips in reply, pulling Jongdae in close between his thighs and letting his thumbs press under Jongdae’s shirt, hands ghosting up and down Jongdae’s sides.

Baekhyun’s blood is on Jongdae’s lips when he pulls back, and Baekhyun yanks him right back in, letting their mouths slide together until the taste of metal and ash and blood fades and all that remains is the sheer sheen of their spit. 

Kissing Jongdae has always been as easy as breathing for Baekhyun, and he chases Jongdae’s mouth with his own when he finally pulls back, humming low in his throat when Jongdae pulls at his hair keep him from pressing kisses all over Jongdae’s face.

“There, now you have your kiss,” Jongdae breathes heavily against Baekhyun’s mouth, letting their foreheads stay pressed together for a long moment before pressing another quick kiss on the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. His eyes look less sad, and Baekhyun can’t help but feel a bit of a weight lift off his chest. “Are you happy now?”

“Very,” Baekhyun grins, hopping off the counter but not relinquishing his grip on Jongdae’s hips, nearly sending them to the ground when their knees knock together, Jongdae steadying his arms on Baekhyun’s biceps. He could tell Jongdae that he’s always happy if he’s with him, but knows that will just get him a brutal _you sap! You’re a terrible gangster!_ teasing, even if the blush on Jongdae’s cheeks tends to make it worth it. “And all fixed up, thanks to you.”

“Just be careful out there,” Jongdae rolls his eyes and gently pries Baekhyun’s hands from his hips, swatting him off in the direction of the shower. “Now get that grime and blood off, I’m going to go finish what I was working on before you decided to bleed all over date night. I’ll heat up some take out for you when you come out.”

Baekhyun blows an obnoxious kiss in Jongdae’s direction as Jongdae waves a hand haphazardly at him, kicking some clean clothes in Baekhyun’s direction and plucking his glasses off the counter as he makes his way back towards the light of his monitors.

Baekhyun knows that he probably looks more than a little dopey as he cuts his eyes from Jongdae’s retreating form and sets himself about cleaning himself off, not even a shadow of the feared enforcer that he played the part of not two hours before. He snorts at the thought as he steps out of the shower, careful not to disturb his fresh stitches and pulling on a pair of Jongdae’s old shorts and hoodies when he finishes.

The apartment smells like leftover lo mein from Baekhyun’s favorite Chinese restaurant that he knows Jongdae hates, and Baekhyun thinks that this must be the kind of love Shakespeare wrote about.

Jongdae is where Baekhyun predicted he would be when he pads out of the bathroom, draping himself over Jongdae’s shoulders and pressing his nose into the crook of Jongdae’s neck as Jongdae reaches a hand back to scratch blunt nails against Baekhyun’s scalp, laughing softly as he presses closer and grumbling for Baekhyun to give him a minute.

When Baekhyun finally pulls Jongdae to bed, he’ll kiss every bit of skin he can reach, let Jongdae rebuild him from the ground up with soft words and softer touches until he can’t remember a single role to play but himself.

Baekhyun might not be able to see the stars or lights in his darkness, but he thinks that he really doesn’t have a need for them when Jongdae will always shine brighter to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is part of a loosely connected series that I will probably add to whenever I feel like it. All comments are highly appreciated!!
> 
> some baby notes:  
> -let Baekhyun and his kokobop #look live, here in this fic we support mullet!Baek  
> \- minseok is the mack daddy mob boss here  
> \- I have like 5 other fics planned in this verse  
> \- And maybe a big fic depending on how much I want to talk about baby baekchen growing up to be sickeningly in love bloody and broken boys
> 
> Also if anyone wants to talk about baekchen (please) or exo (PLEASE) I can be found on [twitter](https://twitter.com/chennieblossom) ❤


End file.
